Broken
by BreaBell
Summary: They tell me I used to be an average student. I used to have friends, boyfriends...but all of that is gone now. All I can remember is Bellatrix,the pain and her deranged laughter. I've been placed in Snape's care. What's the worst that could happen?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

-

It was cold at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. I stood in the middle of the living room, shivering, as the Order of the Phoenix debated my fate. I had been rescued—or caught, depending on how things went—earlier this evening. Now they would decide if I lived or died.

Around me stood a redheaded man and a woman, a purple haired woman, a skinny, scarred man, and a shaggy dog-like man. They were talking amongst each other, about me presumably, but I couldn't make any sense of their words. It was hard to make sense of anything after Bellatrix. She was my only memory.

_Kill me_, I asked with my eyes. _I have nothing. Kill me._

I collapsed onto the floor, my eyes closing, as the truth of the statement hit me.

_I have nothing. Kill me._

_-  
_

When I come to, I am chained to something. A chair? There are voices, always voices here. They pound against my skull. A hand rests on my shoulder, shakes me. I recoil, my eyes open immediately. Before me stand two new people. At least I think they are new. A greasy man and a tight faced woman.

"It is her." The woman states, horrified. "Emily?" Is she talking to me? I do not respond. I am not Emily. I am a doll, a toy, a play thing. I was made for this, for her. The dark lord is kind to let her keep such pretty toys.

"Miss Woods." The man seemed to be talking to me. I stared up at him, blank. _Woods_. I thought. _Trees_. I pictured a tree. I saw many of them. I was running, running for my life. I shook. Cold, so cold. I felt myself fall, yet I remained perfectly motionless. _Chair_, I remembered. _I was in a chair_.

"She's gone." The man said, turning to the woman. "She was a Hufflepuff, if you recall. We can't expect much of her."

"Severus," The woman spoke sharply. Then there was silence. "Get her some food. I need to contact Dumbledore."

"What am I supposed to do? Spoon feed her? I told you she was _gone _Minerva."

"I expect," The woman's voice was dangerously low, "That you can accomplish this simple task. I certainly wouldn't trust her with Kreacher, and we agreed that the children cannot know about her. You will do this."

And then the woman was gone. The man muttered something angrily, and then he left as well.

-

The minutes past and I was alone. I was used to being alone, while she was away. I knew there was no escape. No point. If I tried I would be punished. The room I was left in was dim, and I was thankful, I was not used to the light. Soon, the man was back. In his hand he carried food. I looked away, wary, but so hungry.

Food either came with her, and one of her games, or him and his pudgy hands. She would leave me writhing and screaming in pain. He would leave me feeling dirty and violated. I didn't want food.

"What, not hungry?" The man asked in a drawling voice as I scooted away from him as best I could, turning my head as far from the bowl he offered me as possible. My stomach growled involuntarily. I whimpered.

He rolled his eyes, and placed the spoon into the rich, creamy soup. My mouth was wet with saliva. I was so hungry. The man didn't move, just held the spoon stubbornly in front of my lips, waiting for me to give in. Wormtail would do the same thing. I swallowed my saliva. No food.

Then, losing his patience, the man pulled out his wand, and I felt my lips part of their own accord. _No!_ I wanted to scream. With Wormtail I always had a choice—at least give me a choice. It was too late; I felt the hot liquid pouring down my throat and started to sob. Soon the bowl was gone, and the man allowed my lips to close. My face was wet with tears, and I closed my eyes.

_Just do it_, I willed him. _Quick, so I can't feel, so I can't think._

I waited and waited, the waiting was often the worse part, but when I finally eased my eyes open, the man was gone.

-

_A/N: Things will be explained later I promise! Haha…reviews would be awesome =) Constructive criticism is especially great because I'm definitely trying to improve._


	2. Chapter 2

There was another man before me now. Too many different people. Too hard to keep track. I waited for his judgment. I could tell by the body language in the room that he was the leader. The alpha. It was always useful to know who the alpha was.

It was easy to tell, he stood before me, flanked by the greasy man and the tight faced woman. They looked to him, he looked at me. The new man had bright blue eyes and long a long white beard. He made me feel comfortable…almost.

"Emily Woods," He spoke softly, like he was sad. I didn't know why he would be. "Do you remember me?"

I stared at him, then shook my head. I felt better somehow, calmer. The soup. They had put something in the soup.

"Professor Snape or Mcgonagall perhaps?" Again I shook my head. "Do you remember attending Hogwarts?" Shake head. No. I don't remember any of that, or any of you.

"Can you tell me what happened to you?" Shake head. I could never tell anyone. "Please Emily, try." No. I closed my eyes. No. "Professor Snape, I'm afraid we have no choice. We need to find out what, if anything, she knows. I need you to retrieve her memories."

The greasy man did not look happy, but I knew, perhaps before he did, that he would comply. Retrieve my memories? I almost felt bad for him. Not even I wanted my memories.

The man entered my mind. I could feel it, he stepped gently into my consciousness, and I began to see.

-

_My first memory, my very first, was of her: Bellatrix Lestrange. I remember fear. I remember cold sweat on my palms. There are two dead bodies by my feet. I cannot tear my eyes away from them. They are…important to me. I am sobbing._

_Bellatrix looks my over, she strokes my cheeks gently and I flinch. In her hand is a wand. _Mine_, I think. My arms are stuck, enchanted, I cannot move._

"_Such a pretty little thing." She whispers, practically cooing at me. I am disgusted. "A little toy made just for me. I just have to fix you up."_

_She holds my wand to my forehead._

"_Obliviate__."_

_Then she is distracted, pulls away a moment too soon. I feel the threads of my life unraveling, vanishing, until only this moment remains._

The man withdraws from my mind.

"Her parents are dead." He says, his lips white and thin, and then he goes back in.

My memories for here are scare, disjointed, fuzzy. That is my doing. I do not want to remember. Snape catches a thread, he unravels it.

"_Let's have a tea party!" It is Bellatrix. I remember what happened at the last tea party. I don't want to._

"_No," I say._

"_Nonsense! You love tea parties!" She brandishes her wand at me, tilting her head, "Don't you?"_

_I swallow and nod. I have been well taught to fear her little stick._

"_What a good little doll." She smiles and before me all sorts of sweets appear. Cookies, candies, tea of course… I take a cookie, shoving it in my mouth while Bellatrix isn't looking. Then I take another and another. I can't remember when I last ate._

_She babbles about something for a bit—the dark lord's courage and philosophy, I think—but it all matters very little to me. There is food. Suddenly, her temper changes. She starts talking about Dumbledore, and a boy who lives. I brace myself, knowing what will come._

"_Stand over there, my pretty little toy," She tells me and I obey. It will be easier this way. She won't be as mad. She smiles at me, innocent and childlike, and then she speaks,_

"_Crucio." I fall to the floor, shrieking._

_Later that night, the one Bellatrix calls Wormtail comes to me. He is holding a loaf of bread. It will be the first of many visits._

_I can hardly breathe, let alone move, or eat. This man, large and rodent-like, doesn't seem so bad. He treats me gently. Conjures up water, and drips the bread into it. He is making it soft for me, so I can swallow it without having to chew. I send silent thanks his way._

_But his eyes are hungry. When I am done eating, he runs his hands roughly over my body. I am too weak to resist, but it leaves a feeling in the pit of my stomach that makes me want to vomit. I understand now._

_The food is an offering. If I accept it, I must give something in return._

_I wish I could say I never take food from him again. It would be a lie. I only take it if I am truly desperate._

Snape sorts through all of my memories, fishing out the string from which they originate, and slowly pulling them apart. They are all of a sickeningly similar nature. Finally he gets to the last one.

_It is a new game Bellatrix likes to play. She calls it hide and seek. She will hold me close and we will whirl through the air. When we land it will be somewhere new and frightening. Somewhere we have never been before. She will point out into the distance and tell me,_

"_If you can get there, I will let you go. You will be free."_

_So I run, I always run, but I never make it. She will chase me, cackling like a mad woman, until she catches me. And then she will hurt me for running. Soon I will learn, just like I did when she first left me alone, that there is no escape. She will break me like an animal. I understand this, though I do not remember the source from which I draw reference._

_This time though, things are different. I run and run and run. And there is silence. She is not chasing me this time. I make it all the way to the boundary line. I am free._

_I turn around, because I have to see if she is still there. I have feared her, but never truly hated her. How could I? She was my everything. And there were moments, just moments, of kindness between the pain. When I look around and she is not there, I feel an unexpected weight in my stomach._

_I am no one. I know nothing. I am abandoned._

_How will I live now?_

_I walk and I walk and I walk. I am through the forest. I am in a city. I am on a street. I look, perplexed, at the houses before me. Nine, ten eleven…thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. One is missing. Number Twelve is missing._

_I stand there, starring at it, until someone else comes whirling through the air—right into me._

_At first I am sure it is Bellatrix, but moments later equally sure it is not. It is the redheaded man. He takes in my appearance, dirty and thin, and then stares at the clothes in which I am dressed. Nothing is so special about them. However, he is fascinated by the little yellow tie that was poking out of my robes._

_I knew it was important to me somehow. It was the only thing I kept a secret from Bellatrix. Somehow it must have slipped out from the hiding place in my waist band._

_The man looked around, and then he picked me up and we were flying again._

_We saw for a moment, I think, the man with the beard. And then he spoke to me so I could see. Number 12 had been there all along._

Greasy man kindly pulled out of my head and my eyes shut. I was horrified. He knew everything about me. What I was ashamed of, what I wished to forget. Then, I had to sit there and listen as he related my life story to the other occupants of the room.

-

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Especially the long one from whitehound which made me look more critically at future chapters. I'll try and fix things up a bit but no promises. =)_


	3. Chapter 3

It was my third day in the room and I waited for greasy man…for Snape, as they called him, to come. He was always the one to bring me food. He understood now, now that he had seen everything, why I was so afraid. He was always patient with me, perhaps not understanding or kind, but patient none-the-less. Tonight he did not come.

Instead, when the door opened, it was the redheaded man who had brought me here. He looked tired and worn, there were great bags under his eyes and his skin looked pasty. I wondered if someone had cursed him too.

"Hello," He said lightly, moving very slowly up to me. "I suppose you don't remember me, do you Emily? Your father and I used to work together at the ministry." He smiled. "He was one of the few wizards who would stop by my department. He was interested my work. He wasn't one of those wizards who thought themselves too good for muggles."

I titled my head, confused. Of course I remembered him, he had rescued me. The other words confused me. Ministry, muggles? All garble. I kept my vow of silence. I had not spoken for a long time. I wondered if my voice would still work.

"Emily, we've been discussing your situation, and Snape—the man who usually comes in here—he thinks the Memory Charm that Bellatrix put on you might have been incomplete, faulty somehow. You shouldn't have been able to remember her using it at all. She normally likes her victims to…remember, to suffer. It might have been the first time she ever used it. It's possible you may be able to regain your memories."

I didn't understand. I had all my memories. Snape had seen them himself. Didn't he understand? There was no before. There was only her. She was coming for me. Over the last three days this had become clear to me. She wouldn't just leave. I didn't want her to come back. It was inevitable. It was life. I belonged to her, I was her doll.

"Dumbledore is considering letting you stay at Hogwarts. He thinks it might help you to be in a familiar environment. However, he is a little reluctant. It is understandable. It will be hard for you if you do remember. There's a nice place, it's called St. Mungos. They'd take good care of you there. There wouldn't be anymore pain. Would you like to go there instead Emily?"

I didn't answer. It didn't matter where I was. She would find me.

The man sighed.

"I'll let you think about it." He looked concerned. "In the meantime, there is the matter of dinner. If you decide to go to Hogwarts, and the decision is yours alone, you will be around a lot of people. You can't just stay here, isolated, for the rest of your life. We have to have some idea of how you will react. The children have been talking about joining the Order, but they are too young to understand the implications. It will be good, I think for both of you, if they can see you." He paused, and then motioned for me to stand. "Follow me Emily."

-

My eyes were wide, there were so many people. Too many, too many, it hurt to look at them. There were a gaggle of redheads, a boy with round glasses, a girl with bushy hair, some of the people who had confronted me my first night. I looked around for Snape, hoping for the comfort of a familiar face, but he was not there. They stared at me as I was guided to a chair among the younger end of the table.

There was silence, and food. I nibbled on what had been placed in front of me. I was too nervous to swallow. The girl spoke first.

"Hello Emily," She said with a sad smile. I understood by now that Emily was me. I responded to it, but it didn't resonate with me. It was a label, like "doll" or "toy," though somehow a kinder one. I smiled back, the girl seemed nice and I was lonely.

The boy next to her avoided looking at me. The one with the glasses looked sad for me.

"Imagine what seeing her will do to Neville." The first one whispered. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"Don't just talk about her like she's not here Ronald." The girl snapped. "It's rude."

"Not like she's really here though, is it?" He asked darkly. The girl was silent after that, looking into her lap. "Maybe they should just check her into Mungos."

"If there's chance she can get better it's worth taking," The other boy, the one with the glasses, muttered, angrily. "This is exactly why we should join the Order now. Forget about school. There's danger today. People are suffering and we're doing nothing."

"We're learning Harry. We have to be prepared." The girl had a calmingly authoritative voice. A voice of reason.

"Emily graduated, what, two years ago? She wasn't prepared."

The redheaded boy waved a hand in front of my face slowly.

"Ron!" The girl slapped his hand away.

"What did I tell you?" He asked, "She's empty."

"She's _not_." A redheaded girl entered the conversation. "She's still in there. I can tell. I can prove it."

"How?"

"I can get her to talk."

Even I knew she couldn't. I wished she wouldn't try. The girl positioned herself across from me.

"Hi Emily." She smiled. I didn't respond. "We know about what happened to you, and we're sorry. The people here can help you, if you let them." No one can help me. "They're good people."

"I told you Ginny." The boy cut in when I didn't respond. "Just…let it go."

"Shut up Ron." The girl took a deep breath, and turned back to me, "Now," She said, "I'm sorry, before we start just know I'm sorry, but you need this. I only do this to help you. You have to prove your still in there. You don't want to end up at Mungos. Trust me. It's not that it's a bad place just…" She broke off with a sigh then, gathering herself, took my hand roughly and asked the question I had heard so many times, the one imprinted in my memory. The question I always dreaded. "Emily, my little doll, do you want to play a game?"

I tried to rip my hand away from her, but she held fast.

"No?" She looked pained, but continued, "How about a tea party? You love those. Don't you?"

"Ginny!" The boy with the glasses exploded, "Enough! I know your trying to help, but—"

"I want to play a game," She continued, louder to drown out the boy. She took out a stick—her wand. "Tell me you don't want to play," She willed me, "and you won't have to." She flicked her wand. "I'm thinking…hide and seek?"

There was silence, and I wanted to whimper. I felt pathetic, powerless. _Tell me you don't want to play_, the girl's statement repeated in my head. Could it possibly be that easy?

"No," I said suddenly, shaking. My voice cracked getting the word out. "I don't want to play, no…" And the pressure on my hand was gone. I put my head down, dry sobs racking my frame. "No."

"You don't have to play," The girl said softly. "I'm sorry."

"I guess she's not empty." The boy admitted. I was too exhausted to reply. I would though. One day. I wasn't afraid to speak anymore. I lifted my head until I met the apologetic eyes of the girl.

"Thank you." I said.


	4. Chapter 4

"That is absolutely out of the question." Snape's velvety voice sounded angry. "I will, under no circumstances, keep her with me. Perhaps Sprout will take her?"

I was listening at the door as Snape discussed my fate with the white bearded man and the tight faced woman. He wouldn't have me. I felt a stab of disappointment.

"Sprout burst into tears when she heard the news." The woman cut in. "It would be too hard on her."

"You, then—" Snape began, this time cut off by the other man,

"Minerva will be quite too busy I assure you. She will be taking on my duties when I leave the castle."

"I'm sure someone else—"

"There is no one else Severus." Said the bearded man, "You were the one who recovered her memories. You were the one who suggested to me that the Memory Charm might prove flawed. You know what she needs more than anyone else. I'm afraid I must insist."

Snape swept from the room, angry, and nearly collided with me. He looked resentful, and kept moving without a word to me or a glance in my direction. I was hurt. The bearded man was right. He had seen everything. He knew me better than anyone, and he didn't want me.

"Miss Woods?" The bearded man called from inside the room, "Is that you in the doorway?"

"Yes, sir." The sound of my own voice was still foreign to me, but I liked using it.

"You may enter, Miss Woods." I did, with some trepidation. "I regret that we have not been able to spend much time together, but know I think you are a very brave girl. At the start of the school year you will be returning to Hogwarts under the care of Professor Snape.

"Professor Snape may not always seem kind or sympathetic. He is, however, a good man, and I trust he will take care of you to the best of his abilities. I will be seeing you at Hogwarts, and please to not hesitate to visit me, or Minerva here, if you feel the need." He smiled kindly at me. "I know you will get along well."

I wished I could say the same.

-

_A/N: Thank you all for the reviews! I'm so grateful for the support! Haha…oh no, LadyEkathle caught me… In my head I figured someone would have explained things to the kids before having Emily eat with them, but they probably wouldn't have gone into so much detail. In truth I wasn't really happy with the last chapter…I felt like it was needed, but Ginny was sort of out of character and the whole thing was a little weird. Hopefully someday I'll have a brilliant idea and go back and fix it. Haha. But no, you totally got it, it was my bad =). Thanks for the review!_

_Anyway I really appreciate all the support I've been getting! And the attention to detail! Thanks so much. Sorry for the really long author's note…_


	5. Chapter 5

My trunks were loaded down with muggle clothing. Hand-me downs, mostly. There were some robes in there too, but I found I preferred the weird, chunky sweaters from the Weasley's and cheap skirts. I had worn the same robes the whole six months I was with Bellatrix. I never wanted to wear them again.

I sighed, walking into the brick wall after Severus Snape. I wasn't afraid or doubting. There was no element of impossibility to it, though I felt there should have been.

He looked impatient as I slipped through the other side, and hurried me down to the last compartment on the train. No one else was on the platform yet, though I couldn't imagine we were the only ones taking the expansive train. When we reach the last little room Snape ushered me in without a word. Then he shut the door, turned the lock, and lowered the blinds.

"The train," He sneered finally. "I can't believe I have to take you to Hogwarts on the train."

I said nothing. The more time I spent with Severus Snape, the more I...It was hard to describe. He wasn't easy to figure out. He wasn't exactly easy to spend large chucks of time with either. The more time he spent with me, it seemed, the more he was willing to be himself. He was an ex-deatheater, I had learned from the other teenagers in the house (I had also learned that I was nineteen). I could see it in him: the capacity for hate. He was gentle with me in the beginning, but slowly his comments became more biting, his eyes harder and less giving. Giving? Now I wondered if I had imagined it. I used to look forward to seeing him. Now he scared me, just little bit.

I talked around most people in Number Twelve by the time I left. I laughed with the easy-going Weasley family and Harry and Hermione. The adults treated me as though I was more fragile, but I grew to like them as well. Especially Tonks, who refused to leave the room until she had made me smile. I liked them all.

I had yet to say anything to Snape. Along with the bearded man who I had learned was called Dumbledore, he was least often in the actual house. I hardly saw him. Mostly he would come and leave late in the night. He pulled out a book and began to read, or make lesson plans or some such thing, and I was left to my own devices for entertainment. I stared out the window onto the platform, watching parents and students begin to arrive. At first there were only a few, but the stream steadily thickened until they were coming in droves. The magical brick column was constantly spitting out students and their families, running to get onto the train. I watched the goodbyes: the hugs and kisses and words I could not hear. I wondered if I had once been one of those students. If my parents had come to see me off the school with promises to write.

They, the people at the house, told me yes. They said I had once been a student there. I had been a Hufflepuff, which explained the yellow tie I had been holding onto, though not why I had had it with me two years after graduating. None of them had known me particularly well though. The Order was working on putting my history together.

That was all well and good, but to me it was scarcely more than a fantasy. If I couldn't remember it myself, who was to say it happened? I did want to know though, how it felt.

I had to work up my courage for several minutes before I was able to speak to Professor Snape (the other teenagers called him Professor).

"P-professor?" I managed finally. He looked up from his book, neither amused nor surprised to hear my voice.

"We're verbal now are we?" He asked me. I nodded. He sighed, closing his book, "Very well. What is it?"

"I was just…wondering…what it felt like."

"What what felt like?"

"Getting dropped off. Saying goodbye to the people who love you. I…" The closest I had come to that had been Bellatrix telling me to run off into the woods. Snape gave me a long and hateful glare.

"How would I know?"

"Didn't you go to Hogwarts?" I asked, embarrassed. Snape looked as though he was lamenting being stuck in a compartment with someone with far below average intelligence for the next several hours.

"Yes I did, but not all people say tearful farewells to loved ones. Some have to manage on their own." He looked as though he was about to make some other biting remark, but stopped himself short. There is was again! Maybe it was just the way the light hit his eyes, but I could swear I saw…

_Nothing_, I told myself,_ Don't start thinking about this. He certainly doesn't think about you. It was nothing._


	6. Chapter 6

I was looking out the window again, this time watching the greens and browns of the landscape blur as the train zoomed by.

I decided I like the sunlight, though I couldn't remember seeing much of it before now.

Suddenly, there was a quick rap on the door. "Trolley!" A chipper voice announced. I admit I jumped about a foot into the air. Snape looked at me with something like resignation, then, in a few deft moments, opened the door, pulled something off the cart, and tossed some money at the confused lady standing before him.

"Why Professor Snape!" She trilled, "I wasn't expecting to see you on the train!"

"Yes," He replied slowly, "Well…" There was an uncomfortable silence where no one spoke, then the lady moved quietly away. Snape tossed me the package he had purchased. It was something called a Pumpkin Pasty. I examined it thoughtfully.

"It's lunch," Snape informed me, "eat it."

I loved the concept of three meals a day. I munched on the pasty happily.

"I suppose," He continued, flipping his book shut, "that you want to know your history."

"Mmup." I replied, my mouth full of delicious orange cake. Snape pulled a scroll out of his briefcase and began to read it in a dull, monotonous voice.

"You were born nineteen years ago on the fifteenth of January to Yates and Emma Woods. You were named Emily Anna Woods, presumably for your mother. Your childhood was, by all available information, a happy one. At the age of eleven you were accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You were sorted into Hufflepuff. You were a successful student. You were bright, though perhaps not exceptionally bright."

He paused, "That, Miss Woods, is my personal assessment."

_Gee_, I wanted to comment, _thanks_. He continued.

"You had a fairly large circle of friends. You dated a Hufflepuff boy, some Gryffindors and a Ravenclaw as well. You left school unromantically attached to pursue and internship in publishing. After a year you were offered, and took, a job at the company you interned for. Vacationing with your parents, you had the misfortune to meet one Bellatrix Lestrange. She murdered both your parents and took you in as a plaything to torture. You escaped, or perhaps you were let go, this summer, where you were recovered by the Order of the Phoenix."

I chewed slowly, trying to digest the information along with my food. He handed me the scroll and I put it in my bag. What an impersonal way to learn about myself. I had no idea who I had been, or what I had been like. I merely knew vague events in chronological order. I felt like "Emily" wasn't even me. I couldn't reach her or remember her at all. I couldn't even feel grief for the loss of my memories, because I didn't know what I was missing. I was disappointed, I suppose, to feel nothing and remember nothing.

Snape looked at me for a moment. "Do you want me to step out for a moment?" He asked, in a voice that suggested that the expected reaction would be bursting into tears.

"No." I replied simply, "I cannot cry for the loss of something I cannot remember. I wish I could."

Snape nodded curtly and flipped his book back open.

"Professor?" I asked after a short silence.

"What?" He asked with a bit more emphasis than normal. I suppose he was annoyed.

"Can I ask you something?"

"I don't suppose it would prevent you from asking if I said no." It wouldn't have.

"Can I ask you to tell me something about yourself?" I took a shaky breath, "It's just that you know so much about me…"

Snape regarded me critically. "While you were a student here, my class was the only one you loathed."

"That's more about me than you." I pointed out.

"I'm annoyed by the fact that I have to babysit you all year." His lips were tight as he looked away from me, "The headmaster should know better than anyone that I have more important things to be tending to." His fists were clenched and his palms turning white. I titled my head slightly.

"Thank you." I said, and I went back to looking out the window.


	7. Chapter 7

I couldn't believe how many people had gathered in the main hall of Hogwarts. I had never seen so many people in my life. I couldn't look at them; I kept my eyes focused on the big golden plate in front of me. I wasn't even listening to Dumbledore when he mentioned my name.

"Stand up." Snape muttered.

I stood. There was silence. It made me uncomfortable.

"Now sit." I sat.

My head was starting to pound. When Dumbledore stopped talking the Hall filled with chatter. _Great_, I thought, _if we could just keep this bellow a dull roar._

I could feel the blood rushing at my temples, veins contracting and expanding. What was wrong with me? On my left was a short, slightly roundish witch, who kept trying to engage me in conversation. I tried the best I could to smile, and nod, and act like everything was okay.

"And I teach Herbology," She was saying. "The study of plants? Surely you remember, you were such a quick girl…" I smiled sadly and shook my head. I kept disappointing this woman. I kept disappointing myself. I thought that when I'd get here, I'd feel like I belonged. Like I was, oh I don't know, home? I felt nothing. No connection at all. Maybe I should just go to St. Mungos. I didn't see that there was anything for me here.

I suffered my way through dinner and dessert, and frankly I was relieved when Snape announced that we were leaving—skipping out on the seemingly endless chatter.

I was swept into an office were a little cot was conjured for me in the corner.

"You'll be sleeping here." Snape said simply, and then he left.

I was a little taken aback, but I lay down and tried to sleep. Sleeping was a luxury, I knew, and I had to take advantage of it.

Still, I couldn't help but wonder as I lay there, about the man who had been forced to take me in. He knew everything about me, and I knew near nothing about him. It seemed like an off balance scale, tipping away from me.

As I drifted into sleep I had strange thoughts about balancing scales, and strange dream involving a cat.


End file.
